Never After

“What’s wrong?” As I glanced over at her, she bit her lip and glanced in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not sure, but… I think we’re being followed.” She switched lanes and then sped up, passing by a line of cars before smoothly moving back into our original lane again.

After a few minutes, she shook her head. “And there they are again—don’t turn around, because whoever it is has a good view of us, but there’s a silver Saab to our left, one car behind us. Whoever they are, they’ve been on our tail since shortly after we pulled out of the hospital. They’ve got tinted windows, so it’s hard to see who’s behind the wheel.”

“Aren’t tinted windows illegal?” I eased a glance through the rearview mirror to catch only a glimpse of the Saab. The windows were dark, too dark to see through, at least from this angle.

“Not if they fall within a certain percentage range. I had to find out for Menolly—she wanted the windows of her Jag tinted, so we had to check on the laws. They’re plenty expensive, though.” She darted a glance over her shoulder, then flicked on the turn signal and moved into the right lane. “Let’s see if they follow us over—Yeah, here they come. Whoever they are, they’re keeping pace with us, but staying one lane over.”

She nodded toward the sign ahead. “We’re making an unscheduled departure from the freeway,” she said as she veered onto the exit ramp.

My heart began to race as we quickly paced around the winding ramp, ending up on James Street. We came to a light and had to stop, and Camille fretted as we watched the line of cars go by from the other direction. She glanced in the rearview mirror and sucked in a deep breath.

“He’s there, behind us, about four cars back. I was hoping we’d lose him but somehow he managed to change lanes fast enough to make the exit.” She eyed the area. “We’re near Seattle University, but I don’t think that’s going to help us. It’s too late for most classes, and I don’t want to take a chance on driving into an area that isn’t in full view of the public. Any suggestions would be helpful.”

I frantically stared out the window, my thoughts racing, trying to remember if there was anybody I knew who lived or worked in the area. And then, a name clicked to mind. I snapped my fingers. “Get onto Twelfth and head toward East Pike. Marion has a café over there and they stay open late. They’re always packed because it’s a big Supe hangout.”

Camille quickly turned onto Twelfth as soon as the light turned green. “Who’s Marion?”

“She’s a member of the Northwest Seattle Coyote Clan. They’re urban coyote shifters who mainly stay in the cities. A lot of the coyote Weres have taken to doing that, along with a number of the dog and cat Weres. Lagomorphs, too.”

We had to adapt to modern life, I thought. It was either that, or die out. The wilderness was shrinking and while some of the bear, wolf, and big cat tribes still kept to the sparsely populated states and wilderness areas, most of the smaller Weres had slowly begun to familiarize themselves with urban living.

As we cruised down Twelfth, trying not to let the tailing Saab spook us, I patted my belly, attempting to soothe my overworked nerves. My thoughts drifted back to Mitch and how badly he’d been injured. Somebody had roughed him up something awful. Terrance had to have a couple of goons with him to cause that much damage because Mitch could hold his own in a fight. It was bad enough to have to worry about Terrance, but to be forced to worry about any buddies he might be hanging with… The thought scared the shit out of me.

Camille turned onto East Pike and I pointed up ahead. “See, there on the right. The Supe-Urban Café. There’s parking to the side, right after you pass the restaurant, so pull in there and let’s get ready to run in.”

I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed both our purses as Camille swung into the side parking lot. The minute she pulled to a stop and turned off the ignition, we hit the doors. As we raced for the restaurant, she locked the car with her electronic key. We managed to slip inside just as the silver Saab slowly paced by. I lingered long enough to see it pull into the parking lot.

“They’re still on our tail. Head to the back. Marion spends a lot of time in the kitchen.” I handed Camille her purse and led her through the maze of tables. Business was brisk; most of the tables were filled with people, eating, drinking coffee, talking, reading. It was really more of a hangout than a restaurant and Marion told me she was making enough to put her oldest through college.

As we came to the swinging doors that led to the restrooms and the office, I pushed through and found myself face-to face with Marion herself. She was lean, gaunt but not anorexic, and she had that hungry look in her eyes that all coyote Weres seemed to have. They never looked like they’d had enough to eat, and very seldom seemed fully happy, though most that I knew were quite content and led fulfilling lives. It was just something in their nature that led them to look like street children staring through a candy store window.

“Siobhan, I haven’t seen you in—” She stopped, staring at me, her nose twitching. “You’re afraid. What’s made you so afraid in my restaurant?”

Camille interjected herself between the door and my back. “We’re being followed by someone who’s looking to harm Siobhan. Do you have a place we can hide?” Most Supe establishments had panic rooms of one sort or another.

Marion glanced from Camille to me, then back to Camille again. She quickly turned and motioned for us to follow her. We headed into her office, where she closed the door behind her, then swiftly pulled a bookshelf away from the wall. It was hinged, though we couldn’t see the hinges from the way it was attached, and a dimly lit passage showed from behind it.

“This leads to a tu

Camille raised her hand. “That would be me. I’ve got a steel gray Lexus out there.” She turned to me. “Siobhan, we can call Chase. He’ll bring his men and come down here and if they possibly can, they’ll nab him. Because you and I both know that has to be Terrance.”

I bit my lip, thinking. We could wait here, let Chase catch him. And then Chase would turn him over to the Supe Community council and he’d have a damned good chance of getting away with this crap. Of course, if he’d been the one to attack Mitch—and I was positive it was him—then maybe we could do something, but with Mitch in a coma, there was no way to prove his attacker had been Terrance.

On the other hand, if I really wanted him gone, it meant taking care of him without anybody else finding out. I shook my head.

“No. We play it the way we were thinking about. Marion, thanks for the offer, but we’ll call our friends on the way and have them meet us. It’s enough that you’re giving us the chance to escape. I’ll explain everything later.” I ducked into the tu

She laughed. “Just name your firstborn after me,” she said, shutting the door behind us.

As the sounds of the bar were muffled by the thick bookshelf, I let out a long sigh and flicked the switch on the flashlight. The light beat a steady beam down the corridor and I breathed a little easier.

“We’ve got a bit of a walk in front of us,” I said, glancing down at my pumps ruefully.

Camille held out her foot. She was wearing stilettos. “Don’t even talk to me about painful footwear,” she said, smiling. “Come on, let’s get moving. I wonder if I can get cell reception down here. If not, we’ll have to wait till we come out into the open to call for a ride.”